


Flip It and Reverse It

by orphan_account



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Youtube RPF
Genre: 'Everyone Loves Anthony' is just ironic now, Abduction, Adam Sleeps Around, Alien Character(s), Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alien Mythology/Religion, Alien Technology, Alien-centric Slurs, Andromeda Local Group, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Aromantic, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Blind Ohmwrecker, Blindness, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Colonization, Demiromantic, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Loves Anthony, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Gender Issues, Genderqueer, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I will go down with these ships, Identifying As Space, Inside jokes, Kidnapping, Low Scoring Psychopath, Lui Isn't All Bad, Machiavellianism, Masochism, Multi, No no no IT'S THE ENTIRE U.S. NAVAL FLEET, Non-Chronological, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating Changed Eeeeh, Rating May Change, Relationships Aren't The Main Focus, Sad, Sadism, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Scratch that; it's an Armada, Sexism, Shippy Gen, Silly Characters; Serious Plot, Space Stations, Space!, Speciesism, Tags May Change, This Gang of Ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When John's spaceship crashes on an unfamiliar planet, he doesn't meet aliens, sexy people, or sexy aliens.Worse, he nearly meets the impromptu 'crew' of Catatonia Catalepsy and, after realizing he has no other choice, boards the foreign vessel as a stowawayUpdate:Lui and Adam and Tyler, oh my!





	1. A Separate Introductory Section of a Literary or Musical Work

John was making his way back to take over control from autopilot when silver tiles shook with the rest of the ship, knocking him back onto the floor. As he sat there, brown eyes wide, his senses pulsed with scarlet light and the blaring alarm of UEV B7. He stood, trembling a bit, and rubbed his eyes, vision straining against the invasion of red. He made his way to the control panel, hand gripping the piloting chair affixed to the floor, muscles tensing as his free hand brushed various flashing buttons, knobs, levers, and the odd control or two that required a key to use. Looking up, his eyes were met with a turquoise mass obscuring most of his field of view outside the ship. 

John swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away despite his better judgement. Transfixed, he found his hands hesitating, muscle memory failing as the object grew larger. After a few moments, his eyes widened at a shadow directly in front of him. 

_Wasn't Mom's bathroom that shade of green? The wallpaper, right?_

The thing John heard before his vision went black was the unholy screech of metal folding into itself against the pressure of raw ground.


	2. A Close Parallel or Repetition of an Idea, Feeling, Style, or Event

Michelle's eyes closed, breath stained with the smell of vodka. Fingers curled around a small shot glass, her eyes forced themselves open, fingers stressing and nearly breaking the small, hardened plastic in her hand.

_God, you've gone as low as stealing free samples of vodka shots... Shawn'll never let me hear the end of it if I vomit on myself... Where is he, anyways?_

Her dark, piercing eyes strained in the oddly colored lights of the large, open area. It was technically a restaurant and large store complex for buying in bulk, but only for side revenue, it's main function being a port for spaceships to trade goods and whatnot. There were red spotlights, green ambiance lights, intensely blue strobe lights... Michelle rubbed her eyes, nose wrinkling as she stood. A hand on her arm led her, screeching, away from the crowded store area, yells barely heard among the densely populated chatter, white noise speakers, and spaceships landing and taking off. Her eyes held white circles around her pupils, normally, but they were tinted purple-brown from the lights. Adam snorted.

"Relax! God, it's just me, Minx. Are you really that frightened of m-" Before he was given the chance to finish that thought, he inhaled the smell wafting about her and loosened his grip on her arm.

"...Ah. Should I... get someone, or...?" Michelle's eyes narrowed.

"A-Ad-dm, why- wh... why?" Adam let go of her entirely, frowning.

"Why what, Minxie?" Michelle's nose wrinkled again at the saccharine nickname, hands desperately catching on the other's form despite herself.

"Fuck... I-... Just fuck y-you." Smiling patiently, Adam again held onto her, slowly leading her away.

* * *

 Shawn giggled, sitting at the bar of the restaurant area.

"Oh, really? That's amazing! You're so cool!" The man sitting next to him ran a hand back through his own hair, continuing on about his home planet. Picking up the glass in front of him, Shawn took a drink, closing his eyes before he felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning back a bit, he frowned at the sight of a smirking Adam toting a dazed Michelle with him.

"Do you know them?" Shawn turned back to the man next to him, face flushing.

"I... Yes, sorry, one moment." He stood slowly, glancing at the guy at the bar for a long moment before he looked to Adam, frown deepening.

"What?" Adam shot a look at the unknown man, eyes narrowed, before grabbing Shawn's arm with his free hand, pulling him aside.

"Well, I'm _so sorry_ that I interrupted you and your... boy toy, but Minx is drunk and I refuse to be held responsible for her, so-"

"So you're abandoning her with me? How  _kind_ of you," Shawn hissed, pulling Adam's wrist away from his body. Adam flashed a smile, eyes darkening.

"Well, you know me, always doing the right thing!" Letting go of Michelle, he pushed her towards Shawn before walking off, smile falling once he was turned away from both of them. 

"Seeya later, Ritz!"

* * *

"Don't. I know what you're thinking, but it's a horrible idea, and you definitely need to stop right now," Anthony whispered harshly, fingers massaging his temples as he took deep breaths, unable to entirely comprehend the situation.

"Look, I'm not an idiot, I'll be fine," the older Anthony offered, but his voice shook, muscles a bit tensed. He slowly crouched further, white gloved hands reaching for a small plastic card that was poking out of a wallet temporarily abandoned on a metal chair.

 _"What the FUCK are you doing?"_ The older Anthony jolted upwards, slamming his head against the bottom of the table. Groaning, the younger pulled his friend's limp body away. The older, sitting on the floor still, looked up at the source of the voice. In front of him stood Steven, sporting a scowl.

"Oh, hey buddy!" He gave a lopsided grin, but Steven turned away, arms crossed.

"Told you he'd be disappointed," the younger Anthony murmured.

"Shut up, GaLm!" Steven rolled his eyes before turning back, reaching out a hand to help Anthony up. Accepting it, he stood, a hand moving to rub the back of his head.

"Damn... That hurts like a motherfucker." The younger Anthony eyed him, letting out an exasperated breath.

"We should be getting back anyways," Steven said. "I mean, it can't take  _that_ long to fill a ship's gas tank, right...?"

"Steven, it's an entire fucking spaceship. Are you an idiot?" Steven glared at his older friend, lips pursed. At that, Anthony fell silent.

"Yeah, let's... get back," Anthony started, feeling a bit awkward when the more talkative of the two Anthony's stopped talking altogether. "Ze, have you seen any of the others since we landed?"

"Um... Well, I think I saw Wildcat and Smitty a bit ago, but I'm not sure. I'm sure someone is at the ship, though. It should be fine until we get there."

"Whatever you say," muttered the older Anthony, walking away with his white gloves shoved into his uniform's pockets.

* * *

 John's dust caked face was reanimated, eyelids fluttering open as he gasped a breath of alien air, blinking furiously to get the dirt out of his eyes. As he tried to move his hand to rub the debris from his face, his arm felt stiff, and his nose wrinkled at the feeling- or, rather, at the absence of feeling- on his face. Tilting his head to look, his blurry vision fell upon a shard of glass pinning his sleeve to the ground. Exhaling, he leaned back, mentally reminding himself that his hand was still attached to his arm. After a few moments of calming down, he used more force to move his hand, the glass puncturing the sleeve unlodging from the turquoise earth. Grunting, he sat up, unceremoniously wiping dust away from his face. His hand, covered in bruises and green dirt, was a similar sight to the rest of his body. Moving his left arm, he felt sharp pain, but nothing too serious, groaning as he moved his legs as well. Letting blood begin flowing again through his body, he stood, muscles aching, but, other than a few bumps and scratches, he was relatively unharmed.

John couldn't say the same for his ship.

Turning around, he was met with the horrific sight of metal twisted in directions that could only be described as 'incorrect'. John tore his eyes away, chest pounding. Searching the ground for an answer, he saw chunks of burnt seat cushion and control panel littered about, taking a silent moment to thank whatever would greet him after death that his seat had employed the emergency ejection feature. After that, he put a hand up to block the harsh light of the single, pulsing star in the sky, seeing a large station in the distance.

It would be a long walk.

* * *

 Adam hummed to himself, gloved hands resting in his back pockets as he made his way outside of the station. He looked around at the green of the desert and frowned, brow furrowing.

"It looks like vomit," he mused to himself, eyes narrowed. Turning back to look again at the expansive structure, he snorted, figuring it accounted for half of the tiny planet's entire mass.

"Well, aren't you nice?" At the sound of a voice, Adam's right hand instinctively shot up to his waist where a gun sat in the pocket of his uniform's jacket, muscles tensing.

"Woah! Easy there. This place is neutral territory, and being arrested isn't something I'm interested in." Adam slowly turned, attempting to size up the man standing in front of him without looking like he was checking him out. He failed miserably, but Adam wasn't all that upset.

"And you are...?" The man frowned, stress lines slightly evident on his face.

"You haven't introduced yourself, but you expect me to tell you who I am? Get the fuck outta here," he said, looking away. Adam opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, finding himself at a roadblock.

"Well, that's... Uh... I mean, yeah..." The man made to walk away, but Adam stopped him, white glove curling around the taller's arm.

"Can we make a deal?" The man raised an eyebrow, but Adam grinned when he didn't pull away.

"...What kind of deal?"

* * *

 John wiped away the sweat on his brow, gasping for breath by the time he made it to the wide entrance of the station, stumbling inside. Looking around, he coughed at the lights, eyes assaulted. Hands patting at his uniform, John's face reddened, fingers closing around a pill bottle. Opening it quickly, he downed a pill, hissing at the feeling of doing so without water. Feeling more assured that he wouldn't have a seizure, John slowly made his way further into the building. He shook the haze from his mind.

 _Okay. John. You're okay. You just need to... You need to... Okay. You need to get home. What goes home? Your ship. You should- No. Your ship is a burning pile in the middle of that godforsaken desert. Okay. You still need a ship. Not your ship. If it isn't yours, it's someone else's. You need to get on someone else's ship._ Hands fluttering uselessly, he leaned himself against a wall, feeling sick to his stomach.

 _Okay. There are lots of different ships here. Just look. First ship you see, just get on it. Simple._ Eyes squeezing shut, he turned in a random direction before opening them, stare settling on a somewhat boxy looking gray and white ship. Shakily making his way forwards, he noted that the main door was wide open, scoffing. Looking over, he saw that the ship was still hooked up to the fuel pump, and felt reassured as he walked up the metal ramp leading into the belly of the vessel. Taking a deep breath, he started moving faster, decided to go until he felt thoroughly hidden. 

As he curled up behind large, obscure white cubes that were virtually indistinguishable from one another, he sighed, heart beating far too fast.

_I'm a long way from home._


	3. (Of a Person) Naive or Inept, Especially Socially

Max bit the inside of his mouth, eyes shut tightly. The man dragging him off to _god-knows-where_ was giggling madly.

_don'tscreamdon'tscreamdon'tscreamdon'tscreamdon'tscreamdon'tscreamdon'tscreamdon'tscreamdon't-_

"We're here!" Max opened one eye slowly, soon followed by the other. His face was flushed red, and his hands felt clammy, heartbeat nearly loud enough to hear.

"Wh-Where is... 'here'? I don't- I think that I don't want to be here. I don't even know who you a-"

"Nonsense! 'Here' is great!" Max felt a chill go down his spine.

"I can't see." The other man laughed cheerily.

"Of course you can't; it's dark! And darkness is the perfect place for-" Max cut him off, chest pounding.

"I'm not sure about any deals anym-"

"Don't interrupt me!" The man's grip on his arm tightened just enough for Max to notice, his happy tone suddenly much more off-putting. There was silence for a few minutes, and Max held his breath, silently praying.

_Dear God, I know I haven't gone to church in a while, but it'd be nice if-_

"...Well?" Max could almost feel the other's breath on his skin, face turning redder despite himself.

_Jesus, how close is he? I can't- God, I'm going to die here, aren't I? Why am I such an idiot?  Why did I ever decide to let him drag me off like this?_

"Well... Well what?" He could hear a short, exasperated breath, and his muscles tensed.

_This is it, I'm going to die in a random corner of a fucking space station goddamn glorified Cosco fucking-_

"Are you going to apologize? You interrupted me, mister!" Max finally breathed for the first time in what seemed like hours.

"S-Sorry! Sorry. I... Is that good?" 

"Mhm," the man hummed, and Max let himself relax.

_I might still die, but at least it isn't over me interrupting someone. That counts for something, right?_

"Anyways, let's get to it." Max frowned, suddenly wishing he could see the other's expression in the pitch black of wherever they were.

"Get to wh-"

"Truth or Dare?" Max froze for a moment, then shook his head to clear out the nonsense. 

_What the actual fuck?_

"What the actual fuck?"

* * *

 Shaun peeled the woman's fingers off of his arm, feeling a bit sick to his stomach.

"Minx, please just go up the ramp. It isn't that difficult." Michelle looked at him angrily, and Shaun felt much more aware of the height difference, shrinking slightly.

"I-I'm not meaning to upset you or anything, just please- We can't... You need to go inside. ...Please?" He gave her an encouraging smile, and she responded by hissing, but begrudgingly turned to walk up the ramp into the spaceship. Shaun sighed and, reaching into his back pocket, pulled out a thin, glassy object. Tapping the longer, flat surface, he sent a pulse to Tyler, putting the item back into his pocket.

 _If he doesn't respond, who should I notify? I should probably notify Adam, but I don't really want to, so I guess I'll notify Smitty? Maybe... Ze?_  He started walking up the ramp as he looked up, seeing Michelle hadn't moved after getting to the top.

"Minx, are you okay? How many drinks did you even have?"

"Loss coun- count affer... Twin- When... When'y?" Shaun rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before responding.

"You should go to the sleeping quarters then, I guess. There should be water there if Tyler didn't use it to... I dunno." Looking at her more directly, he spoke sharper.

"I'm gunna go to sleep too, so if I fall asleep before you do, please don't mess anything up? Pretty please?" Michelle rolled her eyes and stumbled past him without responding.

* * *

 Tyler's head spun with words as he laughed, voice slowly starting to fade. He could feel a hand patting him on the back, but was only mostly aware of it.

"And- And then  _I_ said-" He broke off as his vision cleared, a wave vibrating through him.

"Shit, sorry, I gotta... gotta see this." Smitty snorted, raising an eyebrow.

"What is it?" Tyler cursed under his breath as he pulled a small object out from his coat pocket.

"Ritz messaged me... And... Are you fucking kidding me? Some  _dumbass_ left the door wide open! Who even- Ugh... Fucking idiots... He needs us back there." Smitty's expression hardened, becoming more serious.

"Ah. Should we start trying to head back, or...?" Tyler nodded slowly, yawning. 

"Yeah. It's getting late anyways." Shoving it back in his pocket, Tyler followed Smitty as they headed towards the ship.

"What, you getting tired?" Tyler chuckled, vision falling to the floor.

"Yeah. I get sleepy whenever I'm on weird planets."

"...'Weird'? What's _that_ supposed to mean," Smitty laughed, hands resting in his coat pockets lazily.

"Sorry, I forget you're not from the same planet as most of us... It's just... It's like why white people almost always assume aliens are evil in movies and shit. We  _hate_ aliens, whether they're illegal aliens, or... the creepy ones from other systems." Smitty laughed again, shaking his head with a lopsided grin.

"Jesus christ, Tyler. You are certainly something."

* * *

John quieted his breathing as he heard footsteps echoing on the grate flooring; one pair light and the other awkward and heavy. As the light footsteps drew ever closer, he pushed his body further against the wall, a hand flying in front of his mouth. John shut his eyes then, and started mouthing a prayer. A shadow was cast onto the wall in front of him when the large, ceiling panel lights flickered on. As he opened his eyes and saw it, he nearly made a noise, but held perfectly still. It lingered for a few minutes before turning and gradually getting smaller until it disappeared altogether. John exhaled, leaning back against the white cube he was hiding behind.

* * *

Steven and the younger Anthony stood close as they walked up the ramp, shoulders bumping. Steven tilted his head up to look at the lights, skipping ahead. His eyes narrowed and he turned around, seeing Smitty and Tyler making their way slowly towards him.

"Hmm. Good, okay." His pale hands fluttered about uselessly before resting at his sides, jutting out awkwardly. Anthony smiled, brown eyes glinting in the bright lights, following slowly.

* * *

"Chilled!" The older Anthony flinched as his name was called, teeth worrying his lip. 

"Uhm... Ritz?" The man got closer and Anthony saw it was indeed Shaun.

"How long have you been up here?" Anthony laughed dryly, staring down at his feet.

"Just... Just got here." At a weight on his shoulder, his hand went up to meet Shaun's, eyes flicking up.

"Are you alright?" Anthony's expression shifted into a wide grin as he stood up taller.

"Yup! You just surprised me, that's all," he chirped, Shaun's concerned look still holding despite it.

"O-...Okay, well... You can talk to me, you know that, right?" Anthony nodded, pulling the gloved hand away from his shoulder.

"Yes, I know,  _mom_ ," Anthony laughed, turning away to continue down the hallway that had the bedrooms in it. Shaun frowned at the reckless way the other's boots clanked against the metal grating of the floor.

"Well, make sure you're ready for takeoff, friendo!" Anthony just waved his hand dismissively as he stopped at one of the last doors, retrieving a key from his pocket.

Just before he disappeared from Shaun's sight, he shot him a toothy smile.

* * *

Smitty, just settling onto his bed in his room, pulled out a pulsing object from his pocket, eyes momentarily looking up at the empty bed opposite from his. His nose wrinkled.

"Really, Adam?" He tapped out a message, shaking his head slowly.

 _'Are you kidding me? Why? Who am I even going to room with?'_ He waited a few moments, leg shaking a bit, before his eyes lit up at a response.

_'No, I'm not kidding, how dare you! Secondly, none of your goddamn business, and, finally, I could care less. Why not Wildcat? Who is he rooming with?'_

_'Chilled, right? We only have four rooms, man.'_

_'Okay uh... You room with Wildcat, Chilled rooms with Ze, I guess?'_

_'What about Galm?'_

_'Oh shit yeah... He could... Bunk with Minx, and Ritz can sleep like... In the main cabin? I mean, that would make sense anyways.'_ Smitty sighed, resigned.

_'We'll talk about it later, deal?'_

_'No promises.'_ He shook his head, laying back against the bed.

_That's probably the closest to a 'yes' I'll ever manage to get from that one..._

* * *

"Aw, you're so laaaame!" Max frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose slowly, eyes closed.

"Is not wanting to play a game for children with a stranger and possible kidnapper or murderer your version of lame?" The man scoffed, Max flinching at the renewed grip on his arm.

"Duh! It really makes your heart race, though, doesn't it? Aren't you excited?" Max's face flushed, suddenly thankful for the darkness.

"Th-That is irrelevant! You might murder me!" 

"But at least you'd be having fun, right?"

"That isn't-!" Max's voice cracked and gave way as his wrist was tugged on, but sighed again, walking along to keep up with the man, not partial to having arm torn off.

"At least tell me where you're taking me?"

"That would ruin the surprise!" Max felt a small smile creeping onto his face, despite himself.


	4. A Temporary Escape From an Undesirable Fate or Unpleasant Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I changed all the chapter titles to word definitions.  
> I like it better, you wanna fight about it?
> 
> (actually though please don't fight me... i am a fragile healthy meal...)  
> 

Shawn allowed himself to relax when he was sitting at the ship's control panel, eyes closing. Sinking back into the chair, he inhaled deeply, finally able to-

 **"Ritz!"** Shawn sighed, standing up from the chair and turning to the door of the cockpit, hands held behind his back. At the sight of the two people in front of him, his lips pursed.

"What in the world do you need?" Adam rolled his eyes, shoving the stranger forward.

"Here! I refuse to deal with this right now." The stranger blinked at Shawn before looking at Adam with wide eyes.

"I- You- ...What?" Adam laughed, shrugged, and turned to walk towards the cargo area.

"Smitty was telling me we're taking off soon, so get that all wrapped up as soon as you can. A few of our... 'friends'... might have inadvertently set off an alarm, so we should probably go!" He went through the door  and disappeared from sight, leaving an exasperated looking Shawn.

"Y'know- ...Ugh, no. Whatever. Listen, I don't know your name," Shawn said, turning to the stranger. "But we're taking off, like, now? So, um... Yeah, sorry for kidnapping you, I guess. Blame Adam, not me." The man opened his mouth before promptly closing it, eyes lighting up.

"His... His name is Adam?" Shawn flinched, frowning.

"Didn't tell you his name, huh?" Shawn laughed sarcastically, eyes looking straight through the man, focused on something else.

"Fucking typical." Shawn sat back down in his seat, opening a drawer situated underneath the main part of the control panel. Pulling out a bag of what looked somewhat like odd trail mix, he opened it and ate a handful, staring blankly at the cockpit window.

"Well, um... My name is Max. You're... You're Ritz?" Shawn laughed again, but weakly, setting the bag down on the panel. Dusting his hands off on his pants, he took a deep breath before speaking.

"Uh- I mean, I guess? Sure, we'll go with that." Shawn stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles, getting as ready as he could for the impending take-off.

"So you're kidnapping me? I mean... I've never been kidnapped before, but this doesn't seem-" 

"Yeah, I get it. Honestly, it's just Adam, and he's only done this kind of thing-... Well, actually, he hasn't really done this before? He's  _most definitely_ kidnapped people before, but not since we've been on- been  _deployed_ with this ship. Excuse me." Max frowned.

* * *

Smitty sighed, knocking on Tyler's door. The older Anthony answered it, slightly smiling. Smitty, at a loss for words, frowned when Anthony leaned against the door frame, smile stretching into a grin.

"What's up? You, uh... Need anything?" Smitty raised an eyebrow, eyeing the other.

"Not- I- Well that's... No. I- You need to, uh... You need to move out. Like... Just across the hallway, but... Out of this room."

"Who-"

"Ze." Anthony's arm slumped, expression falling.

"Oh." At Smitty's tilted head, he continued.

"I-I mean... Okay! That's-... That's, uh... What about Galm? I-"

"Listen, it's a long story, but Ritz is sleeping in the cockpit, I guess. It's not really-"

"What the fuck is even happening? I don't... Why is this a situation that is even a possibility?" Smitty opened his mouth, but closed it, shaking his head.

"It's nobody. Just a- just an issue." Anthony's eyes darkened.

"But your roommate is- ...Smitty, why-"

"Can you please just get your stuff together? I don't want to discuss this anymore. Thanks." Anthony nodded, backing into the room, shutting the door loudly. Smitty's mouth twisted into a grimace.

* * *

Tyler walked into the cockpit, boots clunking loudly.

"Ritz, do you want me to do recount the shipment before we take off?" Shawn, swiveling his chair back slightly, shook his head.

"Oh, uh, no. We can do that after take off. We have... other things to deal with right now." Tyler frowned, a hand going to his hip.

"And 'other things' means...?" 

"Adam," Shawn stated matter-of-factly. "And his apparent inability to  _not_ constantly break the law." Tyler snorted, shaking his head slowly.

"Fucking hell... Well, I'll be in my room if you need me, okay?"

"Okay, Wildcat," Shawn sighed. Tyler smiled and turned, exiting the cockpit and striding down the hallway to the rooms. Stopping at his door, he opened it. From there, he froze, eyes wide.

"Oh, hey Wildcat," Smitty said, sitting on the bed where Anthony's things had been just five minutes prior. Tyler slowly walked in and shut the door behind himself, eyes still wide.

"...What are you doing in here?" Smitty yawned and laid back on the bed, arms folded behind his head.

"Getting ready to sleep. You?" Tyler's eyes narrowed.

"Okay,  _why_ are you in here?" Smitty chuckled to himself, closing his eyes.

"I think you should really be asking Adam that question, honestly." Tyler's muscles visibly relaxed as he walked over and sat down with a sigh on his own bed.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter sorry... five should be longer


	5. Blatantly Scintillant; Flashy; Gaudy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> K2-3d (EPIC 201367065 d)   
>  Kepler-90h
> 
> * * *
> 
> A look at correspondence between two 'acquaintances'.

_ Apx. XX:XX Units of Time Into the Past_

_ Relative to specific Planemo (Disambiguation: Excluding Interstellar/Wandering/Orphan PMOs)_

_ Time:_

_ the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole _   
_ a societal perception, relative to society (and/or Planemo)_   
_ a description of one's physical location as it relates to a giant ball of exploding gases in space_

_ Past:_

_ in former, previous times (See: Time)_  
_ day-to-day memories, eventually forgotten; regret, unnervingly and unwillingly remembered_

_ Past Location as Relative to Erde:  11h 29m 20.39s, −01° 27′ 17.2″ _

_Present (See: Time) Location as Relative to Erde: 18h 57m 44.04s, +49° 18′ 18.6″_

_Future Location as Relative to Erde: n/a_

* * *

~~[date redacted]  
~~ ~~[name redacted]~~

My Dearest ~~[redacted]~~ ,

Yes, I've been well. Thank you for asking, although your sarcasm was quite apparent. If you decide to speak to me again, at least try to pretend you don't want my head mounted on your wall. Quite frankly, I think your disdain for me is getting in the way of your work. It's tawdry, and I have no time for brazen people. Perhaps you should pause to clear your thoughts; your messages exude anxiety, if I'm being completely transparent with you. I pride myself in being personable, and I expected the same from you. Clearly you were cordial enough to meet me, so what has changed your ways? I highly doubt that my own person alone could drastically alter you to such a degree. Could be that you need some sleep; staying up several nights in a row probably isn't good for your skin.

With endless love,

~~[redacted]~~

* * *

~~[date redacted]  
~~ ~~[name redacted]~~

~~[redacted]~~ ,

I'm glad you've been well, although I don't appreciate your patronization. I've actually been sleeping fine; soundly, even. Don't think so highly of yourself to assume that just your continued correspondence would be enough to keep me up nights. In any event, who's to say I lack amiability? My own personality and state of affairs leaves no room for compensation of any kind. Actually, were you partial to being frank, you'd find it to be accommodating just so. If you want to conciliate overall, though, it'll take more than simply being truant.

I'd more refer to it as 'endless cosset',

~~[redacted]~~

* * *

~~[date redacted]  
~~ ~~[name redacted]~~

My Paramour,

Perhaps what you refer to as 'patronization' is simply myself being caring? I've usually found that to be the case. However, I'm overjoyed that you've been hale enough to raise sleep. Notwithstanding our 'arriving at the end of the sentimental journey', you're being considerably candid, are't you? It still stands as an interesting interpretation, but would you mind walking me through your logic, perchance over some cognac or reds? 

Well, isn't that an eccentric precedent,

~~[redacted]~~

* * *

~~[date redacted]  
~~ ~~[name redacted]~~

~~[redacted]~~ ,

Explain to me exactly those implications, if you'd please, as it seems apparent that you may's'well be speaking an exotic language. Hold your sharp speak for a moment, and clarify your words, at least to the closed-minded. As well as such, if allowed to be perfectly blunt, are you suggesting a tryst?

Inclining yourself to be socially prepossessing'll do you some good,

~~[redacted]~~

* * *

~~[date redacted]  
~~ ~~[name redacted]~~

~~~~Posy,

That, in a certain light, could be seen as something similar to what I was intending. Appears you're projecting, but I am not, as you'd say, disinclined to that particular notion. I mightn't be predisposed towards it as yourself, but I don't decline your offer, if that's the information you've requested.

Fervently waiting,

~~[redacted]~~

* * *

~~[date redacted]  
~~ ~~[name redacted]~~

~~[redacted]~~ ,

I'll take grace and ignore your ingratiating hypocoristics on your behalf. Nonetheless, is wayfaring innoxious 'round where you are? I'll make for you under clear skies, and, though the future is said to reflect past events, I'll look upon our meeting with utmost optimism. I hope, in the very least, that such brings you peace of mind. At daybreak on  ~~[planemo name redacted]~~ , I can depart, if political climates locally surrounding yourself are temperate.

Gods willing,

~~[redacted]~~

* * *

~~[date redacted]  
~~ ~~[name redacted]~~

My ~~[redacted]~~ ,

Yes, it's tame and wholesome, if that eases your misgivings. I've good faith in you, and still my heart'd swell horridly at any news of your harm. It would please me to see you unscathed when you reach me, if at all possible. Contest to be continuously clear and certain along this void of a thoroughfare, and keep your bearing free from harm. Travel swiftly, if at all possible. 

Stay always riskless,

~~[redacted]~~


	6. Having No Determined Limit or Boundary; Allowing Any Answer, Rather Than One From an Array of Possible Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lying comes in tiers.

The echo of red and white converse caught Craig's attention, and he looked up from the front desk, smiling brightly.

"Vanoss! You're actually back for once?" Evan snorted, slipping a few papers through the slot where the concrete based desk met the acrylic wall going all the way up to the ceiling, boxing Craig inside.

"Not for long, actually." Craig raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't this why we have FAST? So that you don't have to leave the base?" Evan sighed, shaking his head slowly.

"Usually, but we're pressed for time and resources, and a lot of our agents are on duty. Counsel Office has been trying to get it's shit together, but Intel and Inspection are 'busy with more important things', apparently. ...That's kind of an exaggeration, they'll be sending over agents soon, I'm just not in any mood to deal with this," Evan ranted, forehead pressed against the plastic barrier. Craig took the papers on his desk and looked through them.

"You want me to put these into the database? There's DOCs _and_ P-PRs here-"

"Just put all of it in. While I was over yelling at Intel, they gave me these since I'd be heading back here anyways." Craig nodded, opening up the forms on his computer.

"By the way, what's all the commotion about?" Evan laughed darkly, half-turning away from Craig, who was typing in the information.

"Listen, kid, you've been here for less than a month; it'd do you some good to not push your luck, okay?" Craig's typing paused as he looked up at the Chief.

"I mean... o-okay. I'll- D-Did you want me to shred these, or keep th-"

"Shred them. Shredding is usually Intel's procedure for those kinds of documents." Craig nodded slowly, finishing up one of the forms.

"What time are people heading out? I-I mean... Just so that I know when I won't be able to-"

"Listen," Evan started, Craig taking silent note of the dark circles under his eyes before starting on another file. "I know what you're asking me. I'd prefer that you not do anything not under your current job description. I remember when  _I_ worked the front desk-I know, I know, shocking- and I wanted to tag along with my older friends, but it gives you perspective and experience that you... you... aren't listening. That's fine." Craig's eyes shot up from the screen, face flushing.

"N-No, I was just-"

"It's fine, I'm serious. You remind me of myself. Kind of. Just... Please don't fuck anything up? I-... Thanks." Craig blinked, frozen, as Evan disappeared from his sight.

* * *

Brian rolled his eyes as Marcel continued laughing to the point of tears. It had been several minutes.

"You can laugh all you want, but at least I  _have_ friends." Bryce looked up from the device in his hands, grinning.

" _Wowwww, Brian._ "

"Oh shut up! You're both assholes." Bryce's eyes widened, expression shifting with indignation.

"I didn't even do anything," he said, voice cracking. Marcel, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, started actively attempting to regulate his breathing.

"O-Oh my god... Jesus fuckin' Christ, Terroriser... That was the cringiest-" He broke off, body shaking despite him making no noise. Brian scowled and, picking up the pieces of paper lying next to Marcel, stormed off. Bryce looked at Marcel, who had finally gained control of his body.

"D-Do you... Do you think that was too much?"

"Maybe," Bryce said softly, hesitating. "You should... go check on Mini. I'll go see if he's actually upset, or if he's just sulking in a corner somewhere." Marcel, standing up from one of the many couches in the lounge, stretched, yawning.

"Ahh, you'd- you'd think he'd be used to it by now." Bryce raised an eyebrow at other.

"Really? I don't think so, honestly." Marcel shrugged and gabbed the dark gray uniform jacket slung over the back of the couch. 

"You comin' with me, or...?"

"Nah," Bryce said. "He needs some time to cool off." Marcel nodded and slipped the jacket on, walking towards the exit into the lobby.

"Seeya," Bryce called out, and Marcel waved a hand back before slipping through the door. Looking down at his device again, Bryce, met with several images of his own face, grinned.

* * *

"Hey, _dumbass_ ," Marcel half-yelled, knocking on the thick plastic barrier. Craig jumped in his chair, averting his gaze from the monitor.

"JESUS! Holy shit, don't do that! You about killed me," he screeched, Marcel's smile growing.

"Is that any way to address a special agent?" Craig paused, then slumping back in his seat.

"You're kidding." Marcel snorted.

"I wouldn't joke about that sort of thing, Mini. You know this!" Craig tried for a smile, going back to typing.

" _Almost... done..._ Uhh, so, you're 'Special Agent Cunningham' now?" Marcel's face scrunched up, a sudden frown there.

"Don't... Don't. 'Special Agent Basically' is so much better. Jesus." Craig chuckled to himself, completing the last entry and closing out of the program. 

"So," he started, picking up the papers lying next to his keyboard and getting up from his chair. "You're going on this, uh... Important trip?"

Marcel winced at the sharp noise of a shredder coming through the slot and the cracks where the door hinges were.

"U-Uh... I guess, why?" Mini laughed sarcastically, emptying the nearly full shredder into the trash can.

"Chief gave me a long 'respect your elders' speech when he came in."

"Mmh." Craig glanced at his friend after setting the empty shredder back in it's spot, sitting down.

"What is it?"

"It's just... In eight weeks, you really get to know someone. He's... Yeah, he's a bit threatening, seeing how much power over your career he has, but he's actually a nice guy once you get to know him." Craig groaned, rolling his eyes.

"What, did you bond over  _land navigation?"_

"I know it's rough for you, but those few years meant that I kinda got a head start. It isn't my fault that you-"

"Watch it," Craig warned, jaw set. Marcel put his hands up, backing away slightly.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'd trade places with you if I could. This whole thing is... Bigger than us. Truth be told, it kinda makes me sick to my stomach."

"Oh yeah, I feel  _so much better now,_ thanks!" Marcel frowned, brow furrowing.

"Uhhh... I mean, you'll have Bryce...?" Craig snorted and went back to focusing on his monitor, opening a separate document. Marcel opened his mouth to speak, but shut it. Craig sighed as his friend's footsteps faded out of earshot.

* * *

_A few 'weeks' ago_

 

 _"Are you a fucking idiot?"_ Anthony winced, still staring at anything but someone.

"Uhh... I-I don't... know?" Shawn's face twisted in anger and he walked away, holding back the urge to hit something.

"Now I have to _fucking_  pulse Wildcat and Smitty, and god knows they're gunna be pissed with  _me,_ and Michelle-don't even get me STARTED on  _her._ " Anthony's eyes fell to his shoes, face flushed.

"Mhm. What a disappointment." Shawn whirled around, eyes blazing.

"Oh fuck off, Adam. Can you put  _him_ somewhere he won't fuck everything up?" Adam nodded, face suddenly poised and serious.

"Yessir." Grabbing Anthony's arm, he dragged him off down a hallway, and into one of the rooms with two beds. Adam shutting the door, Anthony crumpled to the ground, nose red, and started crying.

"Hey, don't- Oh jesus, emotions... I don't, um... Hey. Look here?" Anthony stared at the floor, wiping his eyes with his sleeves as he desperately held back tears, though ineffectively. Adam placed hands on either side of the younger's face and tilted it up.

"Just look at me, okay? Everything is going to be fine, I promise." Seeing Anthony's whole body shake, silent, Adam groaned. After a few minutes with no change, he let out a resigned sigh.

"Okay, Okay, fine." He sat down on the ground next to him and hugged him tightly, eyes flickering with an unfamiliar feeling.

_He didn't like it, whatever it was._

"Okay, uh... you did really well, okay? Do you understand?" Anthony nodded, sniffling, as he closed his eyes.

"Good. I have to... I have to talk to Shawn about things, are you going to be okay here by yourself?" The other nodded again, and Adam let go of him, getting up. He was almost out the door when he turned around for a moment, taking in Anthony's red eyes and stained face.

"Again, just... thanks."


	7. To Grasp the Significance, Implications, or Importance Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What once was, what will be, and what is.
> 
>  
> 
> Subjectively, of course.

John's hand was held stiffly in a salute, just as all those along the line. Uniforms were crisp and neat, collared and button just so.

"Team B," a voice boomed. John held his breath, eyes looking straight ahead.

_Not that I could look anywhere else even if I wanted to._

"At ease." Hands went down smoothly, simultaneously.

"It's been a month since Team A's deployment. As you go to your designated planemos, remember that you  _are not the exploration unit._ Don't wander off. Your job is to get to your partner, and start setting up air deploys. You are there only to help make the planemo  _livable._ Understood?" Twenty five 'yes ma'am's echoed off the walls, and the commander smiled, looking over the team. Finding no faults, she nodded to herself and moved away from the door leading into the boarding area. As each pilot passed through the doorway, she wished them good luck, before pausing at the seventh.

"Keep going ahead, I just need to speak to this one!" The others continued on, frowning as she pulled them out of the line.

"Y-Yes, Commander Krism?" She scanned the wide eyed aviator's face, lips pursed.

"Mm... Nothing, O'Grady. You'll be exchanging with number twenty five due to it being found unreliable. I apologize for making this last minute, but your name was the one drawn from the hat." Tom nodded slowly, eyes thoughtfully scanning the room. As twenty three pilots made to board their ships, Krism grabbed John's arm.

"OHMY- UH... Uh... H-Hello, Commander Krism!" She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about his outburst.

"You'll be taking O'Grady's spaceship, alright?" John blinked, eyes wide, and Krism let out a long sigh.

"It's ship number seven. Now go." As John shakily made his way onto the skybridge for #7, the commander closed her eyes, rubbing her temples.

"Excuse me if it's improper to ask this, but have things been stressful?" She laughed flatly, opening her eyes after a moment with a grimace.

"I think you'll find that I'm perfectly capable of handling my own stress, thank you." 

"I could hel-"

" **Dismissed** ," she said, voice unwavering. Tom ducked his head and made his way back into the main compound.

* * *

Adam sighed, eyes closed. 

"D'you think..." He trailed off, sitting up and eyeing Max, who was laying on the bed next to him.

"Yeah?" Adam blinked before smiling softly.

"Nevermind." Max chuckled to himself.

"You're a real piece of work, Adam." The mentioned's eyes glinted then.

_"Oh am I?"_

"Yes, you are." He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, I'm still better than you."

"Oh my god, shut up," Max laughed.

"Jeez. How long have you even been here? On this ship, I mean." Max looked up at the ceiling in thought.

"I mean... time is all subjective."

"Can you just answer the question? Stop being a smart ass," Adam snapped. Max snorted.

"Oh,  _I'm_ the smart ass? Whatever... Uh, about... Less than a month, I think?"

"Helpful," Adam chimed, smirking.

"Hey, at least I was  _trying_." 

"Uh, yeah, that is true, I guess." Max raised an eyebrow, again watching him.

"You alright?" Adam paused for a minute before answering.

"I... Y-Yeah, I'm alright..."

_Wait._

_Stop talking._

_Look away._

_Adjust yourself just a bit._

_Bite your lip._

_Slowly stop._

_Look back._

_Hold the stare._

_Blink slowly._

_Pace yourself, timing is key._

_Blush, if you can manage._

_Eyes widen just a bit,_

_And..._

"Fuck- Adam," the taller said, sitting up and smashing their lips together in a messy- and slightly painful- kiss.

_You're golden._

Adam pulled away, face having managed to blush.

"O-Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I should've... should've asked if you wanted to, um-" Max was silenced as Adam kissed him back, though  _obviously less spontaneously._

_Perfect, now-_

_Well._

_Maybe._

_He might not be that invested..._

_Eh, fuck it._

Adam broke away to catch his breath, then moving his body over, on top of Max's. 

"Hey there," he said matter-of-fact-ly. Max didn't speak, just stared at him with wide eyes. Adam raised an eyebrow, frowning.

_Dammit._

_That's okay, minor setbacks are to be expected._

_Maybe I'll-_

Adam was pulled from his thoughts when Max pecked his lips, then peppering kissing down his face, and-

_Oh._

Adam's face didn't quite color, just teased at a blush, but it wasn't voluntary.

_That's._

_Not really what-_

" _Fuck_ ," Adam hissed under his breath, trying to focus on anything-the faint sound of the ventilation, the feeling of blood flowing through his veins, the glint of the ceiling lights on the metal frame of the second bed- other than the  _teeth_ at his  _throat_.

_Okay, maybe it was a bit too forward._

_You should just take some time to breathe and think about what happened here._

_And then you can come back and try again._

_Okay._

_That's..._

_That's-_

**_Bloodthatsbloodthatsdefinitelyblood_ **

Adam's hands moved, eyes blazing as they closed, to Max's back, fingernails scraping down the skin.

_Okay okay everything is fine you just need to draw blood and everything will be fine and okay and even._

_Why do I feel like I'm on fucking fire?_

_What the hell is this?_

_Where are my hands...?_

_My hands are shaking._

_..._

_My hands are shaking?_

_Okay, okay, calm down._

_Just calm... down._

_You're fine._

_Focus on breathing._

Max hummed, wiping the blood off of Adam's lower neck with his hand, staining his skin red. Adam's eyes opened, slowly.

"You alright? You seemed shaky there for a minute." He searched Max's face, lips pursed, for any clue as to what was happening to him.

"I'm- No, I'm okay. Just... Holy hell, you- am I still bleeding?" Max offered a sympathetic smile.

"Uhh... Almost. Sorry about that, I didn't know if you'd be upset?" 

"No, no, it's fine! Just unexpected, that's all," Adam laughed, slowly composing himself. 

"Also, um, I think you should maybe check the mirror before you leave the room." Adam's smile dropped as he quickly stood, stalking over to the mirror.

_Fuck._

_Fuck_ _._

Adam was met with a deep, still bleeding bite mark, almost hidden behind a few hickies.

"Jesus, what the hell did you...? I actually agree with you, uh, yeah, you did get a little carried away." He turned to see Max blushing sheepishly, slightly bloody hands held in his lap.

"I mean, it's okay, just not... What I expected?"

_I need to sit down and have a glass of wine._

_Christ._

_I don't know what this is, but if it could, like, not make me sick to my stomach?_

"Sorry, sorry. Does it- Does it hurt?" Adam glanced back, grinning at himself in the mirror.

"Depends. What are you really asking me?" Max said something else, but Adam's ears had started ringing, pieces clicking together in his head. An answer to a question, but not the current question.

_Oh._

_That was guilt._

* * *

Craig closed his eyes, thinking back to images of a personnel record.

Specifically, Bryce's personnel record.

There was a lot of information- small font- on each page, and, seeing as it was for the database, not much redacted.

### 'McQuaid, Bryce [x]

Date of Birth: April | 20 | 1995

Current Age: 22

#### Education | Years Attended

Elementary | Six (6)

High School | Four (4)

Police Academy | Two (2)'

It dropped off there, and Craig found himself frowning.

_This station isn't even on there, and he couldn't have come here right after the Police Academy..._

_Wait, two years?_

He hadn't been focusing on the information itself while putting it into the database, but, thinking back, there wasn't much redacted... Just stuff... Missing. On the surface there appeared to be large chunks of details about his coworker, but it was all just empty air.


	8. Truthfulness, Sincerity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loyalty is a weird thing.  
> Not as weird as time, of course.  
> However, both can _cloud one's better judgement._
> 
> Or not, whatever's your personal preference.

"Sark!" Scott responded with a stretched yawn, blinking slowly.

"Y'need something, Vanoss?" Evan pursed his lips, eyes darkening.

"I need you to be serious." Scott shrugged and sat up in his seat as Evan made his way further into the room.

"Has Intelligence been running smoothly?" Scott chuckled to himself.

"If you're here to ask me about my past, then I want you to know that conflict of interest will never be an issue for me." Evan's eyes twitched.

"Is that to say you have the files you were telling me about?" With a nod, Scott opened the folder in front of him on the expansive table while Evan invited himself to sit down. Pulling out a few pieces of paper, he slid them across to the other.

"Is this-"

"Yes." Evan nodded slowly, mostly to himself, as he thumbed through the pages.

"Huh, you have one on Wild-...  _Tyler?_ Jesus." Scott began tapping his foot, leg bouncing.

"Yeah. I figured it would be best to do that after... after." Evan nodded again, but his eyes were distant, looking through the paper into somewhere else. He spoke softly, and Scott found himself doing the same, eyes elsewhere.

"Do you- Do you think it was my fault? I tried my best to-"

"No, sorry for interrupting, but no. He... His life was going downhill after he started making unsavory friends. I think that he was an adult that made his own choices, and there was really nothing to do."

"I just always think that we could have done more, we could have talked to him, or something... I just..." Scott tapped the table, pulling Evan out of his memory.

"Just know that I won't make the same mistake. I've been here longer, and I regard all this more highly than my relationship with him. He's always been a close friend, but I won't do what Tyler did."

"You still haven't told me much about your friend, though. Is he...?"

"He's not a criminal, no. He's just... a... a, ah... deviant, you could say."

"That's comforting," Evan scoffed, standing up.

"Can you have all those put in the database? I'd be more comfortable with them there," Scott spoke, voice almost wavering.

"Yep! If you need anything, pulse me, I won't be in the office for a while."

"You're going on the case as well?"

"Yeah, but trust me, only because I absolutely have to."

* * *

"Hey." Steven looked up from the makeshift desk by his bed.

"Yes?" His eyes narrowed dangerously at the sight of the older Anthony standing there, holding a few of his things.

"I... Didn't hear you come in." Anthony diverted down, biting the inside of his mouth before speaking.

"Uh, yeah... I- I know." Steven frowned, setting down the pen he'd been holding and standing up, pushing his chair in.

"What is it you need? And, um, why...?"

"Oh! Well," Anthony started, glancing up to his things and then to his friend. "I'm uh... Smitty told me to, um..." Steven's lips twisted, pity spelled out on his face.

"Is this because of Ad-" Anthony took a step back, straightening his posture.

"Not  _everything_ is his fault, you know. Maybe you should think about how you always jump to conclusions, okay? I do what I do because I  _want_ to, not because I'm told to," he snapped, Steven flinching.

"I wasn't... trying... to imply that," he responded, choosing his words carefully. Anthony tried to hold a glare, but it faltered, and his legs felt weak. Steven caught him just before he fell, and led him over to the bed occupied by the younger Anthony's things, sitting him down with wide eyes.

"H-Hey, are you alright? What's going on?"

"Nothing," the older forced, Steven's hands slipping away from his arms.

"This clearly isn't 'nothing', you look like you're about to vomit, dude." Anthony's eyes shifted towards his hands held in his lap as he elaborated.

"Nothing I can- Nothing I can tell you." Steven caught himself, thinking about his response before blurting out anything rash.

"I- I understand. That's alright if you can't tell me, just try to get yourself put together, okay?" Anthony nodded, the hands returning on his shoulders. He faced Steven directly then, flushed, and the younger grimaced, hands moving again so that he could hug Anthony shortly, pulling away to make back to his desk.

"Do you need any help with Galm's stuff?"

"No, I've got it."

* * *

"Wai- Wai...t. 'M rooming w'th whoo?" Adam raised an eyebrow.

"You certainly sober up more quickly than Tyler." Michelle's grinned, eyelids dropping slightly.

"Welll, you know mmme! Bh ans'er m' quession."

"Galm, I guess. The re-routing of sleeping arrangements was mostly just a rotation, honestly." Michelle blinked, much to Adam's dismay.

"Did you understand  _anything_ I just said?" She shook her head.

"Ugh, just go to sleep already," he sighed.

* * *

"I think... you should maybe stop doing so many things at once. It isn't helping anyone." Adam's jaw set, but his cheery expression held.

"Well, um, thank you for the advice, and I'll consider-"

"You can't pull that shit on  _me,_ I know what your voice does when you lie." Adam fell silent, mind racing.

"Calm. Down. You don't have to be dishonest to get your way. You're intelligent, creative, and funny, you don't have to-" Adam started off, arms crossed.

_"Don't talk to me if you're just going to tell me I'm wrong? Thanks."_

"I'm not trying t- Adam! Get back here!" He turned on his foot, eyes piercing his friend's.

 _"Don't you **ever** tell me what to do, okay?  **Ever**_." Shaun flinched, taking a step back.

"I was just saying-"

"I don't CARE what you're 'just saying', I don't give a _fuck!_ Leave me the  _hell. Alone._ " Shaun reached out to grab his friend's arm, but Adam's right hand was wrapped around cool metal just as quickly.

"A-Adam."

"What? Suddenly aren't too preachy, huh?"

"Think about what you're doing, please." Shaun closed his eyes, only able to feel the cold sting against his throat and the rough grip on his shoulder.

"I told you not to tell me what to do," Adam sang, heart pounding in his chest.

"I-I only want to help you, please, Adam." Shaun looked again at the older, and saw his wild eyes, his shaky breath.

"Say that again."

"...What?"

"The last part, say it again." Shaun's brow furrowed.

"Your name?"

"No, before that."

"I- Please?" Adam's fingernails dug deeper into his skin as he exhaled.

"Yeah. That."

"What are you-" His finger slipped down to feel the slope of the trigger, smooth.

 _"Stop talking_ ," he hummed, eyes shutting to let him bask in the moment, twitching smile creeping to his face. After a few minutes, the hand wrapped around the gun fell when he backed away, left hand gone from Shaun. He took a deep breath, putting the weapon back into his pocket before running his hands through his hair, sighing contentedly. Shaun's teeth worked at his tongue and he examined his friend's posture with pulsing wrists, blood pumping fast. He opened his mouth, but shut it, waiting.

"Now." His attention caught on the new words breaking the silence.

"If you tell-"

"I know, I know. Just consider what I said, okay?" Adam hesitated, eyes dodging the question.

"I-... We'll... We'll see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this story is wildly not at all chronological, and the present time is the middle two parts, as well as some things happening w/ Vanoss, Mini, Brian, and Marcel. Just a heads up. The seamexican stuff is in the future, and the stuff in this chapter with Sark and Shaun is in the past, to different extents. Reading this story as if it is all happening chronologically will make no fuckin sense. :) tyty


	9. Without Force, Effect, or Significance; Hollow; Meaningless

_"Congratulations!"_

Marcel didn't sigh, but his shoulders were tired and limp, posture slouched.

He'd heard it all day. "Congratulations".

_Just empty words from empty people._

His fingers found a pen and wrapped around it, holding it lightly, holding on to  _something._

_"You're so lucky to be where you are!"_

_"I'm sure ' people like' Craig would die to be you."_

_"You're the first in decades; be thankful!"_

_"They made a big risk, but it clearly paid off."_

_"I had my doubts about you, but I guess I shouldn't have, yeah?"_

_"He wasn't who I would've picked..."_

_"Chief might have fucked up with this one."_

_"How do we know we can trust 'them'? They're not-"_

A snapping noise brought Marcel's attention back to the present, the paper on his desk drowning in thick, black ink. His eyes widened and he dropped the pen to the floor, hands stained near-wholly. He frantically wiped at the paper, but to no avail, only spreading it further. His movements slowed and he closed his eyes, resignedly standing to get a few papers from the nearby printer, using them as makeshift towels. His hands still bore the marks, but he didn't look at them, muscles tensed with concentration as he attempted to focus his vision, suddenly finding it blurry. 

The ink pooled on the paper was oddly diluted in spots, he saw, and touched his face, feeling tears. Ink was left behind, but, if he cared, he didn't show it.

_Him, of all people?_

He looked up at a picture at the back of his desk of a tall, smiling man standing for a photograph with several other men and women, all wearing the same smile. Somehow different, though.

_I expected it from them..._

_...But from you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow hi two updates? yes of course
> 
> expect chapter ten to be a super chapter (which is why this is so short) i already have a draft and a ton planned so  
> buckle your seat belts ladies, gentlemen, and deities, because you're in for a wild ride ;)


	10. A Feeling of Disappointment or Remorse About Something That One Wishes Could Be Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Nothing will last forever' is just a theory.  
> However, what _is_ known is that there are no absolutes, and that true objectivity is unachievable. That being said, is it too much to ask for someone to tell the truth (even if it is subjective)?
> 
> Apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: more than a little blood

Craig's lips fell into a lopsided grin as Marcel wiped the dirt off of his face with a wet towel, brow furrowed with concentration.

"Marcel, quit acting like my mom!"

"Don't talk back to your mom like that, mister," Marcel teased, expression softening. Craig rolled his eyes but stayed still until Marcel had gotten off all of the pale gray smudges. 

"Still don't know how you got this dirty, you were barely outside for five minutes..." He set the towel on the block affixed to the floor next to them. After Craig stood, he ruffled Marcel's bright pink hair. Marcel cringed away from it, backing away.

"It's weird to me that I'm taller, 'cause- how much older are you again?"

"Five years."

"And how much tall-"

"Four inches."

"Damn right," Craig laughed, running his hands through his own bubblegum hair.

"Are you getting hungry, 'cuz my dad made us some-" A loud whooshing noise interrupted Marcel as it came from outside the small building, dust and dirt clouding in through the open window.

"Oh my- Fuck, fuck, stay there Craig." Craig nodded and fell to the floor, sitting next to the block table, pressed up against the warm clay and metal. Marcel put an arm over his eyes and pushed to the window, reaching it after a painstaking minute of inhaling debris. He pulled down the metal latch, and the sliding sheet came down, covering the window and plunging the room into darkness. He got down on the floor by Craig and sat, curled up, on the side of the table opposite the door. They held their breaths, the house feeling that much more alone.

"Wh-When are your parents getting off from work?"

"The same time as yours, so, um... not anytime soon." Craig shifted oddly and Marcel elaborated, silently cursing himself.

"I-I mean, they should be home in less than two hours." There was silence for a while, but Marcel almost choked when he felt arms wrap around his waist tightly, a head resting on his shoulder. He slowly put an arm around Craig, the hand of his free arm curled up, fingernails digging into his palm.

"Marcel, I swear to Dei if you tell anyone I said this, but... you're like my brother- no, you  _are_ my brother." Marcel nodded, swallowing thickly.

"Y-Yeah, you're... you're my brother too..." Craig laughed softly before falling quiet.  A series of knocks brought tears welling up in the younger's eyes, Marcel's arm pulling him closer. A voice with an unfamiliar accent came through cracks.

" **Any inhabitants, we request that you come outside of the building**. **We are under authority of the Erde Galactic Orbit** , **deployed by Universal Exploration Organization** -" Craig's ears were ringing, he couldn't hear anything, he tasted blood. Marcel shakily stood, and reached out a hand to help Craig up. The two shook as they made their way to the door, hands still held together. Marcel's fingers pushed at the door made of alloy and earth and they stumbled out into the starlight, both boys putting an arm above their eyes to shadow from the large, orange star in the sky, the star that was smaller and hotter than it had been many many cycles ago. As their vision adjusted, they saw malformed, bulky beings with a single large, black eye, one standing close to the door.

"I am here by the direct order of the Erde Galactic Orbit, mandating the Andromeda Local Group-"

"E-Excuse me," Marcel started, the being's arms crossing. "Who- Who are you?  _What_ are you? Why are you here?"

"Seeing as you pose no aggression, I'll answer your questions. I'm a human being, a commander from the Andromeda Local Group, as I said before, the area we've colonized. We're here with the order to search for sentient life in this solar system. Now, who are you two?" Craig stepped closer, standing next to Marcel and pointing a finger at the odd 'human'.

"That's none of your business, and if you think-" He was taken aback when the human grabbed his hand, running thick, oddly textured, white fingers over it.

"Your skin- Mh." They took several steps away, getting a better look at Marcel's living space.

"Clearly... Clearly primitive, Class C." They turned their giant, unblinking eye to Craig.

"By your people's standards, are you considered an adult?" Craig shook his head, attention caught by the thin, sleek structure that was the most likely candidate as a source of the noise and dirt. The human said something in a soft language different from their own, and Marcel's body stopped short when something flew through the air from the other humans crowding around nearby, hitting him in the neck. Before the older could even get a word out, Craig had slumped to the ground. Marcel stared at the human with wide eyes, agape.

"Is he- Is- Did you- Oh my Dei, I-" He fell to his knees as the human picked up his friend's limp body, not answering his unfinished questions, only talking with their own speak. He thought he would cry, but he didn't. He just stared at his palms, pink in places, as the deafening whoosh faded into the distance.

* * *

 Evan's fingers untied laces. He didn't make a sound, but the material aggravated the burn marks on his fingertips, still healing. A creak followed by a quiet greeting caught his attention as he pulled the shoes off.

"Oh, hey Sark!" Scott laughed, moving to sit next to Evan instead of just crouching.

"You can just call me Scott. Sark is too formal, and it's not even my name." Evan's eyes blazed and he met Scott's.

"No, you're Sark!" He blushed when a hand ruffled his hair, fingers not catching on any tangles.

"Whatever you say." He stared through the glass wall at the amethyst earth, farms visible nearby.

"My dad said that you're homeless." It was Scott's turn to blush as he went back to the kid.

"A-Ah, well... Yes, kind of. I mean, I get to live in your mom and dad's... hotel... thing." Evan gazed at him blankly, and Scott sighed. 

"Sorry, you'll understand it sooner or later. Have your parents talked to you about what you want to do when you grow up?" Evan shook his head, but the same spark from before returned.

"No, but I know what I wanna do. I want to be someone that beats up bad guys." Scott felt something pull at his heart.

_He's so... innocent._

"Like, uh... Like the guys in your shows?" Evan nodded, the spark even brighter, matched with a grin.

"Yeah! I wanna be a superhero!" Scott's vision caught on the burns littering Evan's arms and he made himself turn away.

"Just one piece of advice, kid. In your shows, there are 'good guys' and 'bad guys', but it isn't so clear cut in real life. People come in all shades of good and bad, and sometimes people are right in the middle, I..." He trailed off at the returned flat look. He opened his mouth to speak, but kept it shut, leaning in to hug Evan tightly.

"Never grow up, kid."

* * *

John stared at the wallpaper, the ticking of a clock echoing in his ears. The wallpaper was peeling in spots, revealing yellowed paint, an unfinished project. His heart pounded at the sound of yelling and heavy footsteps, replacing the ticking.

 _This wallpaper will never know that the clock resting on it means absolutely nothing._  

John's thoughts were invaded by discernible words, the screaming close enough to understand.

 _"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU'RE NOT MY SON, GET THE FUCK OUT."_ His head leaned back against the wall, lungs feeling too tight.

 _"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. NO SON OF MINE WOULD- WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE A FUCKING 'IT' LIKE JOHN? HE NEVER CAUSED ANY TROUBLE, SO BUSY DOING NOTHING. MAYBE IF YOU'D-"_ John's ears rang, the noise from inside his own head outdoing the ticking and yelling, surrounding him. He didn't close his eyes, but he could barely see, vision so clogged with tears that he could only make out large blobs.

Despite that, his nose wrinkled at the color of the wallpaper.

* * *

~~_"Sorry, I forget you're not from the same planet as most of us... It's just... It's like why white people almost always assume aliens are evil in movies and shit. We **hate**  aliens, whether they're illegal aliens, or... the creepy ones from other systems." Smitty laughed again, shaking his head with a lopsided grin._ ~~

~~_"Jesus christ, Tyler. You are certainly something."_ ~~

Smitty stared at the bed across the room from his own. Tyler laid there, sleeping.

_Should I have told you? You would have figured it out anyways, god knows, but..._

He turned over, laying on his back, but still didn't fall asleep.

_There really isn't an answer, just little things that add up. Too bad it's all to vague to remember, huh? I wish- No. I wish a lot of things, but thinking about it won't do you any good. What can I do? ...Could I-_

* * *

Tyler smirked wildly, uniform ironed to perfection, slapping the other man on the back.

"I see there are a few new recruits?" Bryce didn't return the affection, brushing himself off.

"Not exactly,  _Captain._ " Tyler's expression faltered and he took a step back, adjusting his stance.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he chuckled, but Bryce just smiled patiently.

"Listen, I'm aware of the command chain in regards to respect, but I'm not part of your division. Not directly, anyways. I'll stick to my work, and I assume you'll do the same." Tyler flinched, knitting his brow.

"...Excuse me?" Bryce's smile softened.

"I mean that with utmost respect, of course. I-I try not to come off as cold or rude, apologies." Tyler allowed himself to relax, though his leg felt the urge to bounce, muscles on edge.

"Oh, I see, I understand. Well... Congratulations on your promotion. We'll be seeing much more of each other!" Bryce's eye twitched.

_No, we won't be._

* * *

A hand rested on Jonathan's shoulder, thick latex stretched over it.

"Yea?" The taller man chuckled and turned Jonathan around, a grin stretching across his face. Jonathan's muscles tensed and he froze, eyes like flooded pools widening.

"D-Did you need somethin' from me?" The man's hand retracted, and he peeled off both gloves, stashing them in his front jacket pocket. Both then rested on the other's shoulders again, brushing along the edges of Jonathan's clothing.

"Mm... You... Just a tank top? Really? I don't think it's too warm for your hoodie..." Jonathan smiled, allowing himself to breathe again.

"Never miss up an opportunity to test your skills, huh, Ohmie?" Ryan laughed sheepishly, crossing his arms.

"W-Well, yeah, it's like a game at this point." They both fell silent and gazed out at the hundreds of rows of conveyor belts, a few people scattered among them. Ryan leaned against the railing surrounding the balcony.

"They sound like they're working hard, but I'm not so sure."

"Hell, I dunno'. You'd know better than me, honestly," Jonathan confessed. "...Who are we having do an audit of all the factories again?"

"Luke," Ryan answered, adjusting the blindfold emblazoned with an omega symbol that was tied around his head, spreading across his eyes.

"Cartoonz?" Jonathan giggled.

"Are we sure we trust him to do all that?" Ryan's smile widened. 

"I sure hope so."

* * *

Falling.

Anthony was falling.

He plummeted from the sky, curled up in a ball, before stretching out, arms reaching as if the sky were the ground and vice versa. Anthony held his breath, plunging into the liquid. He opened his eyes beneath the surface and saw only crystal blue, spreading forever in every direction. He couldn't tell if it were water or something else, but it was cool against his too-hot skin. A few stars glittered to him, bright sunlight rippling across the far away surface. He closed his eyes, relaxing, but felt the need to cough, a dull pain spreading from his collar bone to lower ribs.

Without warning, pure scarlet started pouring out of his chest. It's color was uniform, no detail, and it engulfed the clear liquid. Staining, diluting, the cold sensation was far from him, unbearable heat bubbling around him.

He choked out a breath, eyes opening, thick blood filling his oxygen-desperate lungs. He thrashed, body screaming for air, muscles burning. Anthony pushed up, kicking and writhing, hands searching for the surface. He couldn't see his hands, only red. His fingertips met nothing but blood, seemingly growing thicker, like sludge.

Body betraying him, he inhaled, the taste of blood in his mouth only growing stronger as it filled his throat. He could feel it pooling in his stomach, and wanted to scream, but found himself unable. His insides were only blood, he knew without having to be told. Anthony's movements slowed, surroundings turning from sludge to solid, rock. 

There was almost a sense of calm then. The feeling of having control taken away, and being entirely a part of something, letting it wash over you and find every imperfection the same. The ringing in his ears and stress in his chest faded, and Anthony felt free.

No, not free.  _Safe._ Unable to make any choices for himself, he had no responsibilities. Despite being encased in and filled through-and-through with blood, it was a relief. It was okay.  _He_ was okay. Taken care of.

Mind spinning back, his right hand twisted, wrist a bit looser. There was a pocket of liquid by it, hand no longer stuck. He moved it, fingers reaching, desperately crying out for-

...

Adam sat by the bed, a stiff smile on his face, and Anthony felt his eyes open. He gasped for air, panting, whole body covered in sweat. He couldn't feel his hand, limbs still numb, but saw it. In reaching, he had been reaching out at Adam, and found the older's hand. Fingernail marks skittered across the back of Adam' hand, but he didn't mention it.

"Enjoy your dream?" He couldn't speak, but shook his head wildly, emotion welling in his eyes.

"Mmh. The others are out, by the way. We stopped for fuel and food, and Ritz... doesn't trust you to be alone." Anthony visibly winced, heart stinging at the statement. He moved a bit in the sheets and sucked air in sharply, legs worn like he'd run a marathon.

His mind found it's center when Adam's hand slipped back into his, squeezing it lightly. The younger mumbled out words, face flushing.

"A-Ad'm... 'm sorry." Adam's head tilted.

"Sorry? For what?" Anthony sat up carefully, back cracking loudly.

"For, um... For all this. You wouldn't have to be here if I hadn't-" A look silenced Anthony, and Adam sighed slowly, moving from the metal chair to the bed, sitting up, back against the pillows.

"I know you're sorry, and you have a ways to go to make it up to the others, but you deserve a break, yeah?" Anthony nodded, eyelids feeling heavy as he leaned against Adam, curling up. His conscious faded into a _hopefully_ dreamless sleep.

* * *

Bryce hummed to himself, setting a tray of assorted precision tools on a small metal cart, his reflection glinting off of the recently sharpened edges. Faint noise coming from the wall by the door caught his attention, stray hand feeling for a scalpel. There was a muffled  _'Fuck...'_ , followed by clicking, the heavy-duty door then forced open an inch at a time. Bryce let his hand abandon the tool, courteous smile coming to his lips.

"You certainly gave yourself plenty of time to get here." The short man looked up from his bent over, heavily breathing state. 

"Can you blame me, though? Kid put up a hell of a fight, more than I would'a thought." Bryce laughed curtly, moving past the newcomer to inspect the bruised of body of his colleague.

"He always has had a special kind of determination," Bryce noted, corners of his mouth dropping when seeing that the ropes around the wrists and ankles were tied messily, rushed. "It's a shame that it had to be him, I'll admit that he wouldn't have been my first choice." The standing man snorted, raising an eyebrow.

"What, did you actually  _care about another human being_ for once? That's a surprise." Bryce stood back up, glaring.

"No. We just worked in the same department, and he isn't a complete idiot like a few other people around here,  _Lui._ " Lui shrugged and stretched his arms before crouching again and lifting the unconscious body from the ground. Bryce made his way back to the cart, pushing it across the room a bit until it met the edge of an operating table. Lui carefully lowered the body onto it, on his side, curled up. Bryce clicked his tongue as he retrieved a pair of scissors from the tray, cutting through the ropes and laying the body out flat on his back.

"Poor, poor Brock," he sang softly, the man in question's eyelids slowly fluttering open. "There we go. How do you feel?" Brock jolted, eyes wide, and felt his voice cut short by a tightly wrapped up ball of cloth. 

"Now then, when you calm down you can talk to me, because I can't have you screaming. This will all go much more smoothly if you're calm about things, okay?" Lui, leaning against the wall nearby, shook his head slowly.

"You're fucked up, dude. I mean... I don't really have any room to talk, but..." Bryce continued whispering to the mostly limp form on the table, not even so much as turning his head to Lui. He had gotten Brock's limbs secured into the cuffs easily, considering that he was still mostly-sedated, and had moved on to slicing off his clothes painfully slowly.

"Shhh, I just need to make sure I don't accidentally hurt you. Stop- Stop crying, I'm not going to hurt you." Lui's brow furrowed when he saw Brock's face red with tears, chest convulsing in silent sobs.

"Now," Bryce cooed, wrapping fingers around a thin, plastic tube as gingerly as possible. "I promise that this won't hurt, so please be quiet. If you can cooperate, I'll let you talk." Lui grimaced and blocked out the smell of cleaning products, the faint squeak of a wheel on the operating table as it trembled from Brock's movements, the sight of Bryce's gloved fingers brushing against the other's face. After a few minutes he left the room, stomach churning. 

Bryce's lips pursed at Lui's absence, but he moved on, a finger tracing Brock's mouth.

"I'm going to let you speak now, so if there's anything you'd like to say, feel free." The large cloth was removed and Bryce waited. Brock's mouth formed all the words he wanted to say, but he could only manage out gasps and shudders. Bryce's eyes narrowed.

"Is that all? I expected more of you. I guess it doesn't really matter now, though." The cloth returned, and Brock jerked away at the feeling of metal nearly pricking his neck.

"Stay still. Everything will get better from here, trust me." Bryce pushed with his thumb, Brock frozen momentarily, and he sighed contentedly, stress fading from his face. He dropped the needle in the waste disposal bin by him. Behind him, he could almost hear Brock's heartbeat slow to a stop. Bryce pushed away the weight dragging at his heart, scowling, and rounded back to the bed, scalpel finding it's way into his hands.

"I'm... sorry about this. I wouldn't be doing this, but _they_ aren't wrong. People care more when more damage is done. Just the way things go."

* * *

_He isn't perfect,_ Adam thought, looking at pale skin littered with memories and scars. 

_He has just as many flaws as anyone else._ _Don't lose focus._

Brown eyes never left the mirror, thin fingers lighting over 'u' shaped marks on his arms and neck, the faded lines he saw while turning that scored down his back, the dark splotches on his collar bone, the rings at his wrists.

_Nothing makes him different from them. Don't get caught up again. Don't go too far. You need this, you've worked too hard to let this be the thing that ruins it. Don't fuck this up._

 

_You're here for a reason._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, lots of backstory, lots of past events, some recent events, current events, and maybe a future event or two.  
> Leave a kudos and comment if you enjoyed! Leave them if you didn't! Heck, leave them if you're just feeling extra happy that dogs exist today! :)  
> If you want to be notified about updates, I guess you can subscribe, but I dunno, man. I'm not the expert.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the extra long chapter!


	11. Possessing High Moral Qualities, Greatness of Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A List of Things That Brock Does Not Have:  
> \- Trust Issues  
> \- **?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'ma go over stuff at the end in case anyone is confused, just a heads up~

 

Lui's hand closed around the pipe hanging lopsidedly from the ceiling, and swung, vision blurring too quickly. A loud, dull  **thud** echoed in his ears, the pipe dropping to the concrete from his then limp fingers, eyes blinking to rid themselves of tears. He crouched to look at the unconscious form that had crumpled to the floor, brow furrowing, but he looked up when he caught someone stepping towards him.

"Lui. You should have waited for me. I told you not to do this by yourself." Lui felt a flood of tears, chest tight.

"I-I'm sorry, I thought- I didn't want-"

"Let her be. I'll take it from here. You should go and pack." His head tilted up quickly.

"Wait I- What is- I thought I w-wasn't going anymore? Didn't we-"

"Go. And. Pack. I don't want to talk about this anymore." He made eye contact with the other for a few minutes, searching for something.

"I... Okay, dad."

* * *

Adam brushed off his fading t-shirt, attention brought up quickly at the sound of footsteps. They were heavy, and he pressed himself flat against one of the alleyway walls, hands curling at the clammy, algae covered brick. Adam moved further into the ever-darkening street, the offending noise growing quieter. He fell, back leaning against the building behind him, knees bent, arms resting on them. Glancing towards his left, deeper into the back way, his eyes found a misshapen object as they struggled to adjust to the lack of light. Adam slowly rose, still slightly crouching, and made his way towards it. He reached out a hand, fingers feeling blindly, and they met icy cold. His hand retracted quickly, eyes widening, and he brushed his fingers against it again, closing them around a metal lip. Getting closer to the object, he lifted at the lip with both hands, a horrible screeching filling the air. His heart fell and his eyes watered at the smell, but the choice was made for him when one of his arms was gripped tightly and pulled at, Adam tumbling into the dumpster. The lid came down with a bang, and the distant glow of humming streetlamps was purged, breath held. He sat, hands feeling around and meeting no garbage.

"This-" The other being in there with him shushed Adam, their grip on him becoming painful. They both sat in silence, ears straining, but all was quiet.

"They aren't coming back," Adam mumbled, nose red.

"You're really fucking lucky that I pulled you in here, because they're probably coming back. They just don't... tend to check dumpsters." Adam frowned, but only to himself.

"Who're you?" The unknown form shifted, laughing.

"Is that any of your damn business? No. Just know that you better not tell anyone about this thing, and you owe me one." They freed his arm and he sighed, breaths coming in shakily.

"I... I won't. Do you- Do you live here? I mean, not to intrude, I just don't have... A place, or anything."

"No, I don't live in a fucking trashcan, dumbass. I'm only here because a certain someone was attracting too many people. I can't have you talking about me... Fine." After a short pause, the figure pushed up at the lid, Adam jumping at the fresh air, tripping out into the alley. The other followed behind, and let the cover down gently, Adam's face flushing.

"So, wher-" He was pinned up against the wall, yelp muffled by the hand over his mouth, under the much taller stranger. They leaned down and hissed in his ear, voice strained.

"Let's get a few things straight, okay? You need to shut the fuck up, first of all, because the  _last_ thing either of us want is for you to draw attention. Secondly, I'd feel like an ass if I left you here to die, so I'll take you with me, but I don't have to fucking like you. Third, when I let you go, don't scream and run away, that's a fast way to get yourself dropped off somewhere like a stray animal." They backed up, but Adam stayed, muscles frozen.

"Jesus, kid. Just-" They sighed.

"What can I call you?" His brain fired back up, and he stuttered out his name.

"I- A-Adam. What can- What can I, um, call you?"

"Tyler," the other whispered, voice falling. Adam quieted down as well and Tyler grabbed his hand, pulling him with, both close against the side. They came out into fuzzy lighting, and Tyler paused, examining the area before walking towards the sidewalk, heading to a building a block or two down. Adam stumbled along, mouth agape. They halted, and Tyler pulled open the unlocked door, shoving Adam inside the unlit room. The air was still, stale, even, but it wasn't as chilled as outside. Despite himself, he jumped at a hand on his shoulder.

"Fuckin'... Ki-Adam, don't do that," Tyler muttered. "Don't act all... All jumpy, you're freaking me out." He made his way past, and further into the shadowed room, beckoning for Adam to follow him into the next. He obeyed, and the door was shut soundly, Tyler retrieving a lighter from his back jeans pocket, lighting a few candles scattered around the small room.

"Do you live _here_?"

"Yes and no," Tyler said, sitting on the couch shoved up against one of the walls, short bookshelves and end tables providing the glow of light. "No one does, legally. I just camp up here to sleep." Adam nodded, slowly lowering himself onto the couch next to Tyler.

"Oh, and, by the way, you owe me at  _least_ four, now." Adam laughed, tilting his head.

"Four of what?" Tyler chuckled to himself, looking away, and Adam's face burned. He let out a breath, Tyler turning back to him.

"I-I... Um, o-okay...?" Tyler's smirk dropped.

"Shit, I was just- ...Wait, really?" Adam stared pointedly at the wall away from Tyler, arms crossed.

"Okay, _Jesus Christ_ , moving on," he coughed, shaking his head with widened eyes. "Just sleep on this couch, I'll... I'll sleep somewhere else, I dunno. Can I trust you?"

Adam's eyes lit up, gaze fixing back onto Tyler.

"Definitely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the first ten chapters with varying themes, times, and places, imagine this as a part two. A part two with mainly backstories, and based in the past. For 21-30 (If I ever get that far, dear god) I can start actually continuing from the present, but I might earlier than that. Not sure yet. I hope you enjoy some insight into the characters that haven't been focused on a lot, and one that has, but is a personal favorite to write. ;) Thanks!
> 
> Edit: Sooo... This chapter was supposed to be a lot longer, but with school starting again, and a lot of work, I'll just strive for at least 1k words. Don't worry, though, I didn't scrap anything from this chapter, and everything that wasn't in this one will be in the next, so that one might be coming sooner.


End file.
